


Between Battles

by MachineQueen



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Crimson Flower, M/M, Pre-Relationship, npc death scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23534104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MachineQueen/pseuds/MachineQueen
Summary: When everything else is falling apart, Ferdinand can still rely on Hubert to vex him.Set during canon.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 26
Kudos: 174





	Between Battles

**Author's Note:**

> Hi folks! A bit of a warning, please read the tags. This has death everywhere because it is set during the war and I don't want to upset anyone. 
> 
> Nothing makes sugary romance sweeter than pairing it with war time horror, said no one but the demon inside my head.
> 
> @MachineQueen4

1

It had been decided that after battles Ferdinand would report to Hubert. The hierarchical implications niggled at him - why shouldn't he report directly to Edelgard? In rank, he and Hubert were the same. But one could not serve Edelgard without also serving Hubert. He was like a great cumulonimbus cloud canopying the army, impossible to escape or ignore. Battalions moved on his command, lived and died by his word as much as Edelgard's. 

Ferdinand and most of his knights remained blissfully alive. For now. 

To get to Hubert, Ferdinand had to trot his horse through the hushed Vestra sorcerer camp. Unlike his knights, the mages spoke quietly, filling the breeze with whispers and the sound of rustling capes. Tents had been erected in efficient lines. Smoke emitted from mauve-flamed fires. The air smelt like hot metal and old blood.

Unsettling as it was, Ferdinand smiled at any heads that turned his way, wielding the expression like his favourite shield. A couple of mages raised a hand in greeting. Most simply moved so he could ride on through. A face could be glimpsed here and there but the majority stayed hidden by peculiar cowls. 

Hubert's tent was only marked as such by the circle of empty space around it. There was a guard at its entrance, one Ferdinand half recognised by posture alone. He dismounted and led his tired horse forward. 

"Good evening! I'm here to make my report."

The guard was masked. If he smiled or scowled or was half asleep, Ferdinand couldn’t tell. 

"He is waiting for you." And then a dismissive flap of hands at the tent, which Ferdinand took to mean he could go in. 

Ferdinand left his horse with a pat and a carefully rationed chunk of apple. 

The tent was dark and silent. It felt completely separate from the world outside. An oil lamp flickered, casting purple shadows. The only ostentatious item was a plush chair, no doubt intended for Edelgard. Hubert squinted up at Ferdinand from his makeshift desk, as if trying to remember who he was. 

"The other generals were here hours ago. Did you spend all evening aimlessly wandering?" 

"There were things I had to see to - rattled soldiers, wounded horses, resource distribution..."

Hubert huffed. "Your leadership responsibility should come first."

"My leadership responsibilities include a duty of care to those under me. They have put their lives in our hands."

“Fine. I suppose I cannot stop you from playing general, nursemaid, groom and errand boy."

Ferdinand ground his teeth. He hadn't come for a fight but it was like he couldn't avoid it with Hubert. There was a painting back at the Aegir manor of two stags locking horns. The two them were like that - forever locked in combat with no victor. 

“Are you criticising me for doing my job?”

“I am criticising you for doing several people’s jobs. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at the lack of competence from Aegir knights. I expect they are too used to sitting around and living off the land.”

Ferdinand bit back his frustration and wielded another smile, this time as a sword.

“May I remind you that without my knights to hide behind, our mages would be defenseless? The Aegir knights put themselves on the frontlines time and time again. Should we not applaud their bravery and dedication?”

“Indeed. You’re all so eager to fly at the enemy that putting you in the wrong place at the wrong time would be a slaughter.”

Ferdinand felt his smile slip and his face shifted into something appalled. Hubert was right. Death was but one decision away. All his thoughts and emotions collided at once, twisting into a knot of panic he couldn’t even begin to unravel. 

Hubert’s eyes flicked over his face. “I am trying to keep you alive. You do not make it particularly easy.”

“I can keep myself alive.”

The words rang hollow. Ferdinand recalled the clang of metal against armor, blade after bruising blade. Skill gave him an edge, meant he knew the most effective way to maneuver. But there was only so much he could do. The rest was luck alone. If he’d erred a little to the left or right, an enemy lance would have already skewered his heart. He would be only another body painting Hubert’s bloody path. 

“We’ll see,” said Hubert. 

It should have seemed like a threat. But Ferdinand only heard a challenge. He would stay alive. He wasn't done yet. 

Because Ferdinand intended to be Adrestia’s prime minister. Edelgard had stripped his nobility. She could not strip away the years of knowledge and experience he’d gained while being groomed for the position. His purpose was to help win the war and then govern Adrestia. Not because he wanted the power of it or the wealth, but because he wanted to do good in the world. He would not yield until the von Aegir name meant something noble again. 

2

The Aegir knights had come through the latest battle without a single casualty, only minor injuries. Ferdinand hauled a crate of ice packs, freshly frozen by some of Dorothea’s mages. Their forces had worked in tandem, the Aegir knights in front to protect the mages as they cast. 

The camp was full of excited chatter. The knights laughed and acted out their battles with each other. The smell of meat and rice cooking drifted through the air.

“Come join us, sir!” said Jac, one of the youngest. “Anne is doing ghost stories and you don’t want to miss that!”

Anne was from a coastal village on the fronds of Aegir territory. She always had fantastic stories, things she’d heard from sailors. Ferdinand wasn’t convinced ships were ever really destroyed by giant squid or singing mermaids but listening to her was good for army morale. 

“I dearly wish that I could. Unfortunately I have several other tasks to complete. I will have to join you another time.”

He took the ice packs to the medic tent. There was nothing worth calling Linhardt for. The injured knights would recover quickly with rest.

That done, Ferdinand decided he would go and see Dorothea. It would only be polite to thank her for the ice. 

Dorothea’s tent was decked out with a few touches of glamour. An old Mittelfrank programme. A rack of jewellery. Some pretty glass bottles of perfume. Dorothea herself was in good spirits, enough to brew him a weak cup of tea from her rations. Engaging from range had kept her away from most of the bloodshed this time around. An easy battle was always welcome. 

The only downside was that she had enough energy to nag. 

“Honestly Ferdie, when was the last time you put a brush through that hair of yours?”

“Ah! Playing the role of my mother today, Dorothea?”

“If you like.”

“And I am still a bee, I suppose?”

“Oh, more than ever. ”

Her grin was sharp enough to cut himself on. Though she didn’t seem to hate him as much as she used to, he still hadn’t got to the bottom of why he was a bee. 

“Honestly! Men are the worst! I used to spend hours getting my hair to wave. It’s very unfair that you just wake up with it like that.”

“So now you do not like the way I wake up. Getting along with you is a challenge indeed.”

“You can make it up to me. Let’s at least make you presentable.”

“If you insist, I suppose I have no choice but to bow to your expertise.”

Dorothea’s expertise involved making him sit on the floor so she could section out his hair. Then she attacked each with a brush. Ferdinand bit his tongue so he didn’t wince at the tugging. More fool him for expecting Dorothea to have a gentle hand. 

“I’m surprised there aren’t any mice living in here but it’s in better condition than I thought. Maybe I should have been bothering you for hair care secrets instead of Petra.”

“I find one cap of horse shampoo in a basin of water is-”

She thwacked him on the back of the head with the brush. “It’s not nice to tease a lady, Ferdie.”

"I would not dream of it, Dorothea."

Her scalp torture routine went on until the brush passed through each section cleanly. It did feel better to have his hair hanging neatly instead of snared against his neck. Dorothea looked him up and down, pleased with her handiwork. 

"You'll do."

"Excellent! Then I shall dazzle the enemy into submission with my handsomeness."

"What handsomeness?"

"Ah, you are right. I am but a weed when compared to your beauty."

Dorothea laughed. "Very smooth. But listen, you shouldn't feel bad about taking care of yourself, Ferdie."

“Do I look that bedraggled?”

“When was the last time you slept properly? Even at Garreg Mach, you’re always buzzing around. Arguing with Hubert, sparring with Caspar, reading with Petra…”

“I like to find joy where I can."

"So fighting with Hubert is a joy, is it?" 

"If you do not think so, you have never seen his face when he realises he is wrong. Such a thing can keep me going for days."

"I would not be encouraged by any expression on Hubie's haggard face but each to their own. Be careful, Ferdie. I shouldn't have to tell you that Hubie is not a nice man. I don't want to wake up and discover he's done away with you in the night after one provocation too far."

"Hold a moment. You're worried! Could it be, Dorothea, that you like me after all?" 

"Hmph! I find I don’t like you at all when you’re wearing that smug expression on your face.”

She tried to affect a snippy, dismissive look but there was a gleam in her eye. Ferdinand couldn’t help but laugh. It had been too long since he’d had a genuine reason to make such a sound. Spending time with Dorothea was a soothing balm for his soul. He’d have to try and do it more often. 

XxX

Finding Hubert’s camp was never difficult. He did nothing to hide the plumes of purple smoke that gave away the location of his dark mages. Ferdinand guessed it was because they weren’t afraid of infiltration. Only an idiot would voluntarily endanger themselves. Dark magic was brutal. Ferdinand made a point of leading his battalion around wherever Hubert had been on the battlefield, never through. 

His presence in the camp garnered a few ‘good evening’s. One mage even stopped to exchange pleasantries - a polite dark mage was a rare delight. 

Hubert gave his usual curt greeting when he entered the tent. Ferdinand knew he talked too much for Hubert’s liking. It only made him determined to talk all the more.

“It was a fine day for marching. Alas, I found by battle’s end I was sweltering in my armour. And surely your mages were roasting in those black robes. Perhaps you should think of producing a uniform that allows for hot weather, one with shorter sleeves and a different colour, something lighter-”

Hubert stared as if he'd grown a second head. 

"It is a good idea, is it not?”

"It is a war, von Aegir, not a fashion show. What happened to your hair?" 

Ferdinand plucked up a strand and wound it through his fingers. It really did feel much better for the brushing. Perhaps he should have cut it ten inches ago, but who had the time? 

"Dorothea. She assaulted me with a brush."

"You look…" Hubert paused. "Like a show pony."

Ferdinand peered at him suspiciously.

"Best in show, I hope."

"Hrrmm."

Hubert suddenly didn't seem at all keen on looking him in the eye. 

"Have you nothing else to say? No pointed remarks about my vanity?" 

"Her Majesty's officers should look presentable. It was high time you took better care of your appearance."

"I never thought I'd hear that from you. You never cease to surprise me."

"Enough of this insipid nonsense. Give me your report."

Ferdinand recited the report. His battalion had been brilliant and the enemy thoroughly routed. It was the shortest report he'd ever delivered. Hubert watched him with something new in his eyes. Was that respect? Surely it couldn't be?

"While you are here," said Hubert. "I have some tea I need to use. Would you care for a cup? It's wasted on me." 

XxX

3

The Aegir knights had come to Ferdinand reeling. Duke Aegir was gone. They were at war. The house could no longer cushion them from decisions made by Emperor Edelgard. The choice was simple: fight or their families would starve.

The knights divided into roughly two camps: those who stood with Ferdinand and those resentful that their old master had been imprisoned. The former tended to be younger, the latter older. 

Ferdinand cared for them all as best he could. 

“Not long now,” said Linhardt. “Are you sure you want to stay?”

A knight, stripped of armour, lay on a medical bunk. A lance had cut through a major artery and he’d lost too much blood. Linhardt’s magic wasn’t enough to save him. If Ferdinand had been quicker, if Jac hadn’t fallen from his horse...maybe this, maybe that. 

“There is no one else to do this for him and I would not want him to die alone.”

Linhardt shrugged. “He won’t know either way.”

“I will know.”

So Ferdinand stayed and watched Jac transition from one state into the other. The rattle of lungs that could no longer support breath horrified him, but he couldn’t look away. One day, it would be his turn. Would anyone stay with him? Would anyone hold his hand and say they were sorry?

It took a long time for Jac to die. Linhardt left to tend to other patients. When he returned hours later, Jac’s hand had gone cold. Ferdinand’s was trembling. Because Ferdinand had done this to other soldiers. Other classmates. Other people. 

It is for the greater good, he told himself. It is for the future of Adrestia. It is because you believe Edelgard is right and the church is wrong.

“You’re done,” said Linhardt, patting him on the shoulder. “You need to get out now and let me do my job. Do you want me to send for someone?”

“His family aren’t here.”

“I meant for you. Dorothea or the professor or-”

“I cannot bother them. They’ll have their hands full with their own soldiers. I must report to Hubert in any case.”

“Hubert.” Linhardt’s tone turned disdainful. “He’s the last person I’d want to be around. You won’t get any sympathy out of him.”

“I do not want sympathy. I want to know Jac’s death counted towards something.”

Linhardt raised his hands as if to say ‘Well, I tried’. “If you start a fight with Hubert, I’m not patching you up after. That’s on your own head.”

XxX

Ferdinand tore through the Vestra mage camp on foot, boots clomping with each step. He didn’t care about ruining the quiet or leaving footprints in the unmarked ground. The only thing he cared about was getting to Hubert as quickly as he could. 

Surrounded by death as he was, Ferdinand thought he’d made his peace with it. But seeing someone slip away right in front of his eyes had shaken him. Jac had placed his faith in Ferdinand; Ferdinand had placed his in a lonely emperor and her psychopathic retainer. He needed to know he wasn’t crazy. He needed to know they were working for more than themselves. 

Hubert rose when Ferdinand burst in. Edelgard was there too, curled in the best chair. She looked more like a little girl than an emperor, especially as she rushed to assume a more regal position.

“Still alive, then,” said Hubert. “Today did not go as well as hoped.”

Edelgard tilted her head, considering. How must Ferdinand look to her, boots muddied, hair wild, fists clenched...he tried to collect himself. It was one thing to get into a fight with Hubert. He was not in the mood for losing one with Edelgard.

“What happened?” she asked. 

“One of the knights died,” said Ferdinand. His mouth tasted like old socks. He immediately felt stupid. Knights died all the time, every single day, every single hour. But not his knights. That was the issue. Edelgard sighed and imperiously clicked her fingers. 

“Hubert. Have you still got that brandy I gave you for your birthday?”

Hubert guided Ferdinand to his desk stool, sat him down and made him sip brandy from a cracked glass. The alcohol had a distinctly dusty aftertaste, like it had been in the back of a cupboard for years. His breath calmed. Hubert’s hand sat on his shoulder. Solid. Grounding. Ferdinand leaned into it and waited for the warmth to be withdrawn. 

It wasn’t. 

“Better?” asked Edelgard.

Ferdinand managed a nod.

“That knight will be the first of many,” said Hubert. “You know this. You agreed to the cost.”

Hubert was right. Ferdinand needed to remember why he was here. His father threatened expulsion from the Aegir house whenever he faltered. If he could see Ferdinand now, he'd be beyond disgusted. 

A good leader cannot be ruled by emotion. 

Yet another area where Edelgard had him beat. She was perfectly placid. From her clothes and demeanour it was difficult to tell she'd even been in battle. 

"Death is never easy," said Edelgard. "But there is no other path. I need people like you to remind me of those we lose. I mean to use their sacrifice to build a fairer world."

"I cannot imagine it."

"I can," said Hubert. "We want people to choose a life for themselves, not dictated by their birth. You need not be chained by a crest or a name."

"Without my crest, I would not have been selected as the heir to Aegir."

Edelgard shook her head. "I would have chosen you as heir regardless. You are more than a crest, Ferdinand."

It was not a straightforward sort of comfort but Edelgard and Hubert were not straightforward in nature. Every conversation with them was a delicate dance as they tried to work out how much they could trust one another. Truthfully, they deserved nothing from him. It was his loyalty to his land that had kept him at their sides. They must have known that, the same way he knew they still had plenty of secrets. 

Ferdinand drained the last of the brandy. There was no sense in holding on to Jac’s death. The only way was forward. 

Hubert squeezed his shoulder. 

XxX

4

The battle was bloody. The Knights of Seiros had come for Ferdinand and his battalion. The fact their strategy had been concocted specifically with him and the Aegir knights in mind added an extra sting to the terrible results of the battle.

Ferdinand had been too good at his job, too clever. Now he was paying the price. Each and every enemy knight carried a horseslayer lance. The cavalry frontline was devastated. The mages behind were forced into a harsh retreat. 

Chaos reigned. 

Ferdinand had slain any soldiers that came near, cut a swathe through enemy forces. It was only after the enemy stopped coming that he realised he was the last man standing. 

Most of the horses were dead. Some of their riders went with them. The others were badly injured from falls, lances or being trampled. Linhardt’s arrival was a blessing. His healers did their best to patch Ferdinand’s fallen battalion back together. They wouldn’t be fit to fight again for a month at least. It was a huge setback for a war that had already dragged on too long. 

After they had recovered the injured and any wandering horses, Ferdinand withdrew to his tent on orders from Linhardt. His lance arm was in a sling and his shoulder ached with every breath. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw only the battle’s bloody aftermath. 

His horse was among the dead. She had been his since the war started, sweet off the battlefield and a terror on it. Now he would have to build a bond with a different beast, start all over again. 

This was no good. He needed a distraction. 

There were some books in his belongings. He’d brought one of his favourite novels. The protagonist was a knight tasked to save his king by disguising himself to sneak into enemy territory. Though the countries were supposed to be fictional, he could tell enemy territory was based on the Adrestian Empire. The author described Enbarr as though she’d walked there herself and Ferdinand felt a pang of homesickness. 

If only there were books about knights from Adrestia that might properly capture the beauty of the Empire. But Adrestia was famed for its mages, not its knights. And Hubert would make a terrible hero. He was too grumpy, snide, argumentative...a reader surely wouldn’t warm to him. Or at least not until they saw how he was with Edelgard. Or Bernadetta. Or maybe anyone who wasn’t Ferdinand. 

Why was he thinking about Hubert?

He went back to the book, reading until the text blurred and his eyes drifted closed. When he dreamed, it was of Enbarr. 

XxX

Ferdinand woke with a sore head and dry mouth. Something heavy draped over him. A blanket? He thought to rouse himself but his limbs refused to move. Everything hurt. 

"Is he well?" Edelgard's hushed whisper in the quiet of his tent. Why was she here?

A gloved hand brushed the hair back from his face. Gentle fingers lingered, stroking through his untamed hair. Ferdinand kept his eyes closed because whatever this was, he didn’t have the strength to acknowledge it.

"He can stay where he is for now."

"Hubert. You're so soft on Ferdinand these days. When we were at the academy, you fought like cat and dog."

"...I never thought he'd accept being your subordinate."

"I know. It isn't just the two of us against the world anymore."

"I miss those days."

"Do you wish we could go back?" 

"Only so we had less to worry about."

"Less people, you mean? 

Ferdinand felt another touch to his hair, a wayward strand tucked behind his ear. 

"We need to keep them alive."

"We will. We've got Byleth on our side. And in any case, Ferdinand is too stubborn to die."

A laugh as dry and brittle as old bones. But not without affection. 

"That is true."

“Linhardt said he was in a bad way. Will you stay with him?”

Ferdinand expected sharp indignation. They had been getting along better (“Even if I find you to be a contemptible degenerate, I can still evaluate your abilities in an impartial way.”) but he couldn’t see Hubert readily agreeing to stay with him.

“Of course, Lady Edelgard. If you are certain you have no other need for me.”

“Byleth shall take care of me tonight.”

After Edelgard left, Ferdinand heard the creak of Hubert settling on one of the flimsy chairs Ferdinand kept on hand for guests. Then Ferdinand waited a long time, until the sound of breathing evened out. So the man did sleep after all. He allowed himself to shift, just a little. The blanket over him was stiff and not warm. He felt the shape of it out. 

Not blanket. Cape. 

While not as comfortable as a blanket, as gestures went, it was… Sweet? 

There was definitely something wrong with him. Sweet was not a Hubert kind of word. Sinister. Sly. Secretive. But never sweet. 

Ferdinand slept like it was before the war. 

XxX

5

The slaughter of most of their horses made a change in setup necessary.

Hubert and Edelgard would lead the next assault. The enemy would never expect it. Everyone was keen on the idea. Everyone apart from Ferdinand.

“Your soldiers are not used to being on the frontlines,” he protested. “It is entirely different to being at the rear, there is danger at every turn. You need to move quickly to keep up with the changing situation and I’m not sure that-”

Hubert reached out with a gloved hand and pushed at Ferdinand’s bad shoulder.

“Ouch! What was that for?”

“To get you to shut your mouth. You will stay at the back until you are needed.”

“I do not hide in battle,” he groused. “If I am to do that, what is the point in participating to begin with?”

“You’re our backup plan instead of our main strategy,” said Edelgard. “We paid a high price for coming to rely on you and the Aegir knights to such a degree.”

“I want you to rely on me.”

“We do,” said Edelgard. “And the enemy knew that. This time shall be different.”

The Aegir knights, at least, were pleased with the decision. The earlier lines of dissension had all but dissolved. Ferdinand had even convinced Old Mal, one of those closest to his father, that his leadership ability was perfectly good, even if the style was different. 

“Better for the horses, this way,” said Old Mal. “My Queenie was lucky to survive. Don’t look so glum.”

“They think I am weak.”

“They think you are injured. Which you are. In kinder times, the duke would have argued for us to retreat back to base.”

“I will never be the coward that he was!”

“Sure. The old duke was a coward. Got lucky and spent a few years living the dream; wife, son, prime minister, money, whatever he wanted. He didn’t give a damn about battles, he only wanted to save his own neck. But you, sir, maybe you’re too much the other way. Pushing us on for your own goals, no matter how noble they might be.”

“I do not intend to push you beyond your means.”

“A little push can lead to unexpected greatness. Pushing now is the wrong move. Pains me to admit that von Vestra is right about something but here we are. He seems to look out for you.”

“... Hubert only cares about Edelgard.”

“That day we lost half our knights, von Vestra marched round the whole camp looking for you. The last place he thought to look was your own tent. Seems he knows you all too well.”

Ferdinand remembered the solid weight of the cape. He'd woken to stiff shoulders and the smell of fresh tea. There had been a note left in Hubert's chicken scratch penmanship. It was the oddest note Ferdinand had ever received. It started by chastising him for forgetting to eat and get proper medical attention or “courting death through self-negligence”. It ended by praising his “inexhaustible efforts to bring about revolution.”

Hubert hadn’t asked for the return of his cape.

XxX

By the time Ferdinand made it to the frontlines, it was all but over. There was a tingle in the air leftover from dark magic. Any soldiers present were dead, friend or foe. A number of the bodies wore the uniform of the Vestra Sorcery Engineers. Ferdinand hoped Hubert wasn’t among them. There was always a terrifying span of time where he didn’t know who had lived and who had died. 

The survivors of the battle made camp a few miles ahead, off the battlefield. As soon as he was able, Ferdinand made for the purple smoke. 

The dark mages were in disarray. Instead of quiet, there were panicked voices coming from tight huddles. The usual straight lines of the tents were gappy and haphazard. No one turned to greet him. The atmosphere was heavy with tension and sorrow. 

Ferdinand began to panic. He circled the camp three times but he couldn’t tell which tent was supposed to be Hubert’s. Hubert had never cared about having any of the extra perks the other generals had - wash basins, furniture, personal items. The only distinguishing item he owned was on the back of Ferdinand’s horse - the cape. 

Admitting defeat, he went directly into the nearest mob of mages.

“Where is von Vestra?”

“On the warpath, sir,” said a woman. Ferdinand thought he recognised her but those damnable masks prevented him knowing for certain. She pointed towards one of the tents. 

As he got closer, he could hear raised voices. 

Hubert.

A wave of relief flowed through him. Alive. But shouting. That was worrying because Hubert didn’t shout. He usually waited for other people to lose their temper after he calmly pointed out all their faults. And if he made a threat, it was always quiet. A threat from a von Vestra was personal and as such only their intended victim was supposed to hear it.

Inside the tent, there was an unconscious mage on a bunk. Hubert was shouting at Linhardt. Linhardt was shouting back. 

“I can only do what I can do! You should know that more than anyone!”

“And I am saying your decision was wrong! If you had an ounce of tactical thinking in that wandering mind of yours then-”

It looked like Hubert was ready to knock their medic unconscious. Ferdinand deliberately positioned himself between the two of them. 

“Oh! Ferdinand!” The relief in Linhardt’s tone was palpable. His eyes pleaded for rescue. 

“I am usually the one shouting at times like this. What happened?”

Hubert glared at him. “Get out, von Aegir. Your timekeeping skills are truly atrocious.”

“You just missed Hubert telling me how to do my job,” said Linhardt. “Tell me Ferdinand, what would you do? You have three patients in critical condition. How do you choose who to save?”

“I could not. I cannot imagine doing the job you do.”

“Mira was twenty-two,” said Hubert. “Twenty-two and she had everything to live for!”

“Hubert, calm down,” said Ferdinand. “Two days ago, you told me all who died in my battalion did so for a worthy cause and that their deaths would have meaning. Is it not the same for her? I never took you for a hypocrite.”

Hubert took a deep, long breath. “Yes. For Her Majesty. You are right.” He bowed to Linhardt. “I apologise. I lost control of myself. It won’t happen again.”

“Fine,” said Linhardt tiredly. “Can you leave now?”

Hubert slipped from the tent, head down. It was the first time Ferdinand had seen him look defeated. It was a relief to see Hubert wasn’t completely untouchable. He might enjoy playing the cruel, emotionless villain but there was a heart underneath it all. A heart that cared for more than just Edelgard?

“Linhardt? Will you be well?” 

There was a brief pause. Then: “Make sure Hubert isn’t going to skin me in my sleep, will you? It seems he actually listens to you.”

XxX

And so Ferdinand gave chase. 

"Nothing I say is going to make you go, is it?" asked Hubert. 

"You were there for me. It is only noble to do the same for you."

Hubert’s tent was quiet as ever. The fabric stifled the sounds of the outside world. Hubert waved a hand at the chair Ferdinand always thought of as Edelgard’s. When Ferdinand sat, he half expected her to burst into the tent and demand it back. 

Hubert busied himself with water and a pan. He heated it over a small flame, back turned to Ferdinand's curiosity.

“I brought your cape.”

Hubert flinched. “Yes. Thank you.”

Awkward silence. The water hissed and bubbled.

“It was kind of you to leave it for me. Knowing you were there made me feel less alone.”

“‘Ferdinand, do not mock me. I am a von Vestra. We are not kind.”

“You are not always kind in word. But you are in deed, when the mood takes you.”

“Have you hit your head on something?”

“No. I believe my head is the only thing I have not hit in this damn war. And I am on to you, Hubert von Vestra. You cannot hide your small kindnesses from me. You left me my favourite tea and I do not think it was an accident.”

“A von Vestra-”

“Von Vestra this, von Vestra that. You have spent this whole time telling me my name does not matter, it is the person I am. Why is it not the same for you?”

“I only ever wished to serve Lady Edelgard. I have no use for these other feelings. You in particular seem to make things worse. I am constantly caught between wanting to batter you round the head and sing your praises. It is nothing short of maddening.”

“Which is it at the moment? Should I be on my guard?”

“Always.” 

Hubert handed him the tea. It was not nearly as good as it would be at Garreg Mach, where they could properly heat water and use tea leaves. But it was still welcome. A comfort in liquid form. 

“...Byleth keeps a stash of everyone’s favourite. But this is the only one I have."

"And it just so happens to be my favourite berry blend?"

"... Fine. You caught me. Happy now?"

“Extremely! May I ask you to humour a request of mine?If I put down the tea, may I hug you?”

“Your lack of self-preservation is really quite remarkable.”

But he didn’t move away from Ferdinand’s advances. Ferdinand put his chin to Hubert’s shoulder and arms around his back. They breathed together. In, out. Hubert smoothed back a lock of Ferdinand’s hair, tracing it around his ear and down his spine. Ferdinand shivered. The scent of dark magic was strong on him. Familiar. Safe. 

A whisper at his ear. “Ferdinand. Will you still have tea with me after the war?”

Ferdinand formed his answer carefully. “No. We will not have tea. After the war, I will make you coffee. We will drink it together while we argue about taxes, treaties and ridiculous things like floral arrangements.”

“I thought you did not care for coffee.”

Ferdinand smiled against Hubert's neck. 

“Perhaps it is growing on me.”


End file.
